In ten years (or less), Raegan may be less than pleased with me for writing this, but I'm currently working on focusing on my current season of life, and so here you have it: a post about potty training. And really, she can't get too mad at me for talking about this because she is totally the one who initiated it, so how could I not share this story?
Little Miss turned two all of four days ago. And apparently she decided that two is the new twelve (or at least the new three (which is when HD potty trained)), because out of nowhere, the day before her birthday, she told Ben she wanted to use the potty and then she used the potty. As in, she poo'ed in the potty! What the what? What kid does that?! Apparently mine because then she did it again the next day, too! And every day since she has either peed or poo'ed or both, all on her own. I shared these developments with some dear friends (who else besides dear friends would get excited about such news?!) and one of them said that maybe RL would self-train. I didn't realize that concept even really existed, but we're five days strong on this now and it seems like it really might be a thing.
Except, these efforts are clearly not done all on her own because she is far too little (in stature and age) to be making any of this happen independently. Oh, no. She requires a fair amount of adult assistance both to get her diaper off and to get her little bum up on the booster potty seat thing we bought and have had hanging in the bathroom for months. So I guess that also means her new potty trick didn't come out of nowhere - she's been asking about the potty for some time and watching her brother use it for ages - but this whole child-led training thing is very much new to all of us.
And really, I'd be all for it because then I'd be back to just one in diapers but that's just it - the other little peanut still in diapers makes it kind of challenging to drop everything and help Raegan when she hollers, "ME POTTY!" (which has been happening a LOT this week). I don't know if she thinks it is a game or what, but every time she heads for the bathroom, she wants to put the booster on and sit on the potty about five times before she's ready to leave. Even if she takes care of business during one of those initial attempts, she just keeps going through the process. Again and again and again. So you can imagine how this goes for me when I need to be nursing or changing or putting down Lincoln and Ben is not home - not so great!
Also, because I'm a "every story has two sides" kind of girl, I wonder how this whole self training business will be when she decides to take her diaper off on her own when I'm preoccupied with Baby or she's in her crib. And what if she doesn't make it to the potty? I'm loving this year's MOPS theme of a beautiful mess but those are not messes I think any of us would find very appealing....so how do I trust her on this? How do I follow her lead?
Ha! As if I choice. As my dad has been saying since the day I went into labor with Harrison, my kids are driving the bus, and apparently Raegan's decided to take us all on a little pit stop. I have a feeling this is just one of many times that she will make up her beautiful mind and then get something done. Messies or not, she's pretty awesome like that!
Friday, November 8, 2013
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Memory Keeper
When I first started writing this blog, I was pretty hesitant. I felt like there must be about a million other "mommy blogs" out there and what could I possibly have to add to the conversation? But I've been keeping journals on and off since I was in high school and in the time since, I've learned two things: I love writing for an audience and I type a heck of a lot faster than I write by hand! So I guess that means a blog was a natural choice for me - a place where I could share my story and could do so quickly, if need be. As it turns out, the need for speed comes often as my day-to-day with three Littles doesn't really afford me a lot of time to myself or to write. But then again, my Littles are exactly why I write.
I write for Harrison because he is my first born, my first baby love. Each and every day is a learning experience for the two of us simply because he's my oldest. I don't know what to expect or how to handle each new stage and so we learn and grow together. Writing here about our lessons and accomplishments is a way for me to sort it all out, to express my joys and concerns, and to love him out loud. He's an amazing kid and I'm happy I get to be part of his story.
I write for Raegan because she is my sweet, ever-lovin' smile. She's also got more personality and spunk in her left hand than most people I meet, so needless to say, she's good for anecdotes of sugar and spice. I also write especially for her for when she is older. I want her to know what life was like when she was a babe so that it might help her when she has babes of her own and wonders why on earth this parenting thing, this mothering thing, is so freaking hard. Because it is. But it's also beautiful and that's why we keep doing it, why she will keep doing it, should she choose to enter the Mama Tribe.
I write for Lincoln because he is my calm - my snuggle and my warmth at the end of a long day (and sometimes after a long night). Even though his story has been beyond unique from the very beginning, I feel much more comfortable with his baby self than I did my first. Not because there was anything wrong with HD or with me in those moments, but because I've learned a ton since I first became a mama and that knowledge keeps me more grounded as I go through the baby and toddler phases for the second and third (and hopefully, someday, fourth) time. Also, as the third, Lincoln deserves his spot in the limelight, too, and blogging gives me a platform for making that happen.
Another grounding element that has kept me blogging the last two+ years is the greater sense of self and connection it gives me. I don't feel so alone in this mothering gig any more because countless times friends and acquaintances have told me, "I love reading your blog. It feels like you're inside my head when I read your stuff." Obviously the compliment is super but the "inside my head" part is even more of a boost for me, especially as a writer, but also as a mom. Those comments let me know that my stories do matter, even if I am one of a million mommy bloggers, because someone else is reading them and feeling connected to them, to me. Those comments help me know that I am not alone.
After all, I think what we all need more of in this life is connection. To each other, to our kids, and to ourselves. After being ridiculously isolated for the first part of my mamahood, I have to say, I'm much happier now that I put myself out there more, through life experiences like going to MOPS and personal endeavors like my writing. I can't even number how many times I've felt less alone after posting a blog, simply because it caused someone else to say, "Me, too!" and isn't that just exactly what we need to hear sometimes?
I also feel like I'm coming into my own as a mom and a friend and even as a woman, all through the simple act of being honest when I write. If I keep it up as my journey continues, I'll continue to have these great little vignettes to look back on, to remind myself of just how far we've come. And since you know I like to be honest, you can believe me when I say that I can't think of a better way to spend some of my precious free time than as a memory keeper for my oh-so-exhausting-yet-totally-amazing little brood.
I write for Harrison because he is my first born, my first baby love. Each and every day is a learning experience for the two of us simply because he's my oldest. I don't know what to expect or how to handle each new stage and so we learn and grow together. Writing here about our lessons and accomplishments is a way for me to sort it all out, to express my joys and concerns, and to love him out loud. He's an amazing kid and I'm happy I get to be part of his story.
I write for Raegan because she is my sweet, ever-lovin' smile. She's also got more personality and spunk in her left hand than most people I meet, so needless to say, she's good for anecdotes of sugar and spice. I also write especially for her for when she is older. I want her to know what life was like when she was a babe so that it might help her when she has babes of her own and wonders why on earth this parenting thing, this mothering thing, is so freaking hard. Because it is. But it's also beautiful and that's why we keep doing it, why she will keep doing it, should she choose to enter the Mama Tribe.
I write for Lincoln because he is my calm - my snuggle and my warmth at the end of a long day (and sometimes after a long night). Even though his story has been beyond unique from the very beginning, I feel much more comfortable with his baby self than I did my first. Not because there was anything wrong with HD or with me in those moments, but because I've learned a ton since I first became a mama and that knowledge keeps me more grounded as I go through the baby and toddler phases for the second and third (and hopefully, someday, fourth) time. Also, as the third, Lincoln deserves his spot in the limelight, too, and blogging gives me a platform for making that happen.
Another grounding element that has kept me blogging the last two+ years is the greater sense of self and connection it gives me. I don't feel so alone in this mothering gig any more because countless times friends and acquaintances have told me, "I love reading your blog. It feels like you're inside my head when I read your stuff." Obviously the compliment is super but the "inside my head" part is even more of a boost for me, especially as a writer, but also as a mom. Those comments let me know that my stories do matter, even if I am one of a million mommy bloggers, because someone else is reading them and feeling connected to them, to me. Those comments help me know that I am not alone.
After all, I think what we all need more of in this life is connection. To each other, to our kids, and to ourselves. After being ridiculously isolated for the first part of my mamahood, I have to say, I'm much happier now that I put myself out there more, through life experiences like going to MOPS and personal endeavors like my writing. I can't even number how many times I've felt less alone after posting a blog, simply because it caused someone else to say, "Me, too!" and isn't that just exactly what we need to hear sometimes?
I also feel like I'm coming into my own as a mom and a friend and even as a woman, all through the simple act of being honest when I write. If I keep it up as my journey continues, I'll continue to have these great little vignettes to look back on, to remind myself of just how far we've come. And since you know I like to be honest, you can believe me when I say that I can't think of a better way to spend some of my precious free time than as a memory keeper for my oh-so-exhausting-yet-totally-amazing little brood.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
How to Survive Today
Yesterday began at 4:28 a.m. for me. Unfortunately, after almost two weeks of doing pretty well getting to sleep every night, yesterday didn't end until 4 a.m. this morning for me. That means that with kid wake ups and whatnot, I got all of about 2.5 hours of sleep. And now I have to do 10 hours by myself with all three kids in the house today. Here's how that will happen:
1) I am giving them and myself a lot of slack today. If that materializes in pajamas all day or "one more" show on PBS, then so be it. It is cold outside and I am part-zombie today. Slack is necessary to forgive myself my crazies of not sleeping well and to understand that the things my children do today that I find less than favorable are not personal attacks on me or a reflection of who I am as a parent. Harrison was up between 3 and 4, too, for unknown reasons; apparently Raegan took her pajamas off after Ben put her down, forever before falling asleep, and then slept in just a diaper (and now has a runny nose); Lincoln was up at 3:30 to nurse. We are ALL tired today and each one of us needs slack (you have no idea how many times I am having to hit the delete button to correct the mistakes my tiredness is making as I type, even).
2) Love. That's what I can give my kids today. Not a bunch of spectacular SuperMom moments - just love. And I can do the same for myself. Every time I see my super dark circles in the mirror, I can choose to love myself instead of criticize. Maybe that is SuperMom after all.
3) I will watch this a million times. Or at least think of it and remember that they love me, imperfections and all.
Afternoon Update: Yep, a lot of screen time, two cups of decaf coffee, some kick-ass Melissa and Doug stickers, and some good tunes have gotten us this far. Still two hours to go until Ben is home (hopefully) and then maybe all of my super sleepies (and one slightly sicky) can get some rest tonight, me included.
1) I am giving them and myself a lot of slack today. If that materializes in pajamas all day or "one more" show on PBS, then so be it. It is cold outside and I am part-zombie today. Slack is necessary to forgive myself my crazies of not sleeping well and to understand that the things my children do today that I find less than favorable are not personal attacks on me or a reflection of who I am as a parent. Harrison was up between 3 and 4, too, for unknown reasons; apparently Raegan took her pajamas off after Ben put her down, forever before falling asleep, and then slept in just a diaper (and now has a runny nose); Lincoln was up at 3:30 to nurse. We are ALL tired today and each one of us needs slack (you have no idea how many times I am having to hit the delete button to correct the mistakes my tiredness is making as I type, even).
2) Love. That's what I can give my kids today. Not a bunch of spectacular SuperMom moments - just love. And I can do the same for myself. Every time I see my super dark circles in the mirror, I can choose to love myself instead of criticize. Maybe that is SuperMom after all.
3) I will watch this a million times. Or at least think of it and remember that they love me, imperfections and all.
Afternoon Update: Yep, a lot of screen time, two cups of decaf coffee, some kick-ass Melissa and Doug stickers, and some good tunes have gotten us this far. Still two hours to go until Ben is home (hopefully) and then maybe all of my super sleepies (and one slightly sicky) can get some rest tonight, me included.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Inhale/Exhale
Today my body feels a wee bit like I got run over by a train. Or maybe like I went for a kick-ass 5 mile run. My muscles are that sore and achy. But what I actually did, is something that I'm very excited about on multiple levels, for many reasons. The big mystery activity? A fantastic hour-long yoga class at a local studio yesterday morning. It was awesome.
My love affair with yoga started in college. I did classes on my semester in Africa in '02 and then again at Doane in the Spring of '04. But since then, the only yoga I've gotten in has been the prenatal DVDs that I started using during my second pregnancy (and loved, loved, loved! seriously - all mamas-to-be should get this set!). No formal classes since college, though, so when Avani opened almost two years ago, shortly after Raegan was born, I was excited about it. But then RL was a crappy sleeper and we moved and I found plenty of reasons not to go. Last fall I was all gung-ho again, but then found out I was pregnant, again, so again, more excuses not to start.
Now, in the midst of all this sleep drama and third baby (beautiful) chaos, one of my goals has been focusing on myself and letting go of excuses. That isn't exactly easy to do and as you know, my me time doesn't exactly come in big installments. But I have to have some things for me or I am going to fade out and be of no use to anyone, which is why I'm walking and reading and writing and looking for other ways to just be me (not Mama or Wifey or Teacher, etc. Just me). Enter Thursday's purchase of a ten-class punch card at Avani. It's a beautiful thing. I can go to any of their classes offered at various times throughout each week and the thing never expires. So right now my goal is to make it once a week. With the aforementioned chaos, I think that is both a good and realistic goal. Once a week is better than never, and once Lincoln gets a little older and we get some more routines established, maybe I can bump that up to twice a week, and maybe then to the unlimited-monthly card (how cool would that be?!).
Why am I so jazzed about this? Because my class experience yesterday was amazing. Clearly part of it was the physical reaction my body had to the class. The movements and the music felt good the entire time. That's not to say that it was all easy. In fact, most of it was not which was both humbling and inspiring for my postpartum-third-baby-belly. I couldn't believe how hard some of the moves were for me. Holding my arms in a plank position and then trying to drag a towel on the floor with my feet towards my hands? The gal next to me could go all the way. I could go maybe a quarter of an inch. While that might sound disheartening, it wasn't. If anything, it gives me more goals and improvements to look forward to, because I know if I stick with it I will see and feel results in a month or two or six. I will get stronger and more flexible and I can give myself the space and time to let those things come. And while I knew by supper time last night that I was going to be insanely sore today, I'm good with that, too, because those aches in my muscles they tell me that I am both alive and aware in this world and what's better than a reminder like that?
Another reason the class felt so good was that it helped me clear and focus my mind a bit which is a practice that I think will really help me get my sleep back on track. We silently set intentions at the start of class and the instructor reminded us continually to state those back to ourselves, so I spent the whole hour celebrating myself for 1) being there and 2) being aware of my body. It was that simple, but that powerful, too. When we ended in Relaxation Pose, I found myself almost in tears at first and then grinning from ear to ear by the end of it. Apparently that radiance stuck with me because when I jetted off to the birthday party of a friend's son right after class, my friend and two others commented immediately about how good and happy I looked when I got there. Who knew, but apparently yoga is a good remedy for BRF, too!
In all seriousness, the reason I'm writing about this is to remember those feelings and my original intentions and to hold myself accountable for continuing with this practice. I also share this with you because a lot of you reading this are parents and I want to encourage all of you, myself included, to remember to take care of you. As I keep adding elements and avenues of me, I see myself holding my own and keeping more calm with the day-to-day crazies of meltdowns and meal times and me-centeredness that is life with three Littles. I know they see and feel and appreciate the strength I am giving my body and mind with each of my efforts, too, so even though I am focusing on me, I am also helping my family as a whole.
Of course I'm still going to have moments where I feel stress and want to cry, "I am TOTALLY FREAKING OUT" (thank you, PBS, for HD's new favorite show, Peg + Cat). But that's the point. It's OK for me to have those moments and those feelings. It's what I do with my head and my breath and my words in those moments that will have the greatest impact on my little family. Might as well use my yoga practice to make them as centered as possible!
My love affair with yoga started in college. I did classes on my semester in Africa in '02 and then again at Doane in the Spring of '04. But since then, the only yoga I've gotten in has been the prenatal DVDs that I started using during my second pregnancy (and loved, loved, loved! seriously - all mamas-to-be should get this set!). No formal classes since college, though, so when Avani opened almost two years ago, shortly after Raegan was born, I was excited about it. But then RL was a crappy sleeper and we moved and I found plenty of reasons not to go. Last fall I was all gung-ho again, but then found out I was pregnant, again, so again, more excuses not to start.
Now, in the midst of all this sleep drama and third baby (beautiful) chaos, one of my goals has been focusing on myself and letting go of excuses. That isn't exactly easy to do and as you know, my me time doesn't exactly come in big installments. But I have to have some things for me or I am going to fade out and be of no use to anyone, which is why I'm walking and reading and writing and looking for other ways to just be me (not Mama or Wifey or Teacher, etc. Just me). Enter Thursday's purchase of a ten-class punch card at Avani. It's a beautiful thing. I can go to any of their classes offered at various times throughout each week and the thing never expires. So right now my goal is to make it once a week. With the aforementioned chaos, I think that is both a good and realistic goal. Once a week is better than never, and once Lincoln gets a little older and we get some more routines established, maybe I can bump that up to twice a week, and maybe then to the unlimited-monthly card (how cool would that be?!).
Why am I so jazzed about this? Because my class experience yesterday was amazing. Clearly part of it was the physical reaction my body had to the class. The movements and the music felt good the entire time. That's not to say that it was all easy. In fact, most of it was not which was both humbling and inspiring for my postpartum-third-baby-belly. I couldn't believe how hard some of the moves were for me. Holding my arms in a plank position and then trying to drag a towel on the floor with my feet towards my hands? The gal next to me could go all the way. I could go maybe a quarter of an inch. While that might sound disheartening, it wasn't. If anything, it gives me more goals and improvements to look forward to, because I know if I stick with it I will see and feel results in a month or two or six. I will get stronger and more flexible and I can give myself the space and time to let those things come. And while I knew by supper time last night that I was going to be insanely sore today, I'm good with that, too, because those aches in my muscles they tell me that I am both alive and aware in this world and what's better than a reminder like that?
Another reason the class felt so good was that it helped me clear and focus my mind a bit which is a practice that I think will really help me get my sleep back on track. We silently set intentions at the start of class and the instructor reminded us continually to state those back to ourselves, so I spent the whole hour celebrating myself for 1) being there and 2) being aware of my body. It was that simple, but that powerful, too. When we ended in Relaxation Pose, I found myself almost in tears at first and then grinning from ear to ear by the end of it. Apparently that radiance stuck with me because when I jetted off to the birthday party of a friend's son right after class, my friend and two others commented immediately about how good and happy I looked when I got there. Who knew, but apparently yoga is a good remedy for BRF, too!
In all seriousness, the reason I'm writing about this is to remember those feelings and my original intentions and to hold myself accountable for continuing with this practice. I also share this with you because a lot of you reading this are parents and I want to encourage all of you, myself included, to remember to take care of you. As I keep adding elements and avenues of me, I see myself holding my own and keeping more calm with the day-to-day crazies of meltdowns and meal times and me-centeredness that is life with three Littles. I know they see and feel and appreciate the strength I am giving my body and mind with each of my efforts, too, so even though I am focusing on me, I am also helping my family as a whole.
Of course I'm still going to have moments where I feel stress and want to cry, "I am TOTALLY FREAKING OUT" (thank you, PBS, for HD's new favorite show, Peg + Cat). But that's the point. It's OK for me to have those moments and those feelings. It's what I do with my head and my breath and my words in those moments that will have the greatest impact on my little family. Might as well use my yoga practice to make them as centered as possible!
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Medal Ceremony, Anyone?
I deserve a damn medal. Not because I did anything extraordinary, but because I did about a million ordinary things, mostly on my own because my hubby's had a crazy week, too, and I mostly didn't lose my sh!t with the children while doing so. And contrary to the tone of all my cussing thus far in this post, I'm over the moon happy about life right now. So content that I found myself in the rocking chair this evening, nursing Lincoln and grinning like a damn fool (see, there's that language again; apparently I swear inversely to how well things are going!). Why? Because I've been working really hard lately and today I realized, more than once, that I not only feel good, I am good. So good that I could still feel it all over my tired, covered in sticky and icky and milky self tonight. And that's pretty awesome.
Now, a few points I need to add before I continue. Perhaps, if you are not feeling so good at the moment, you would like to kick me in the shins right now. I get that. I have been there. I am sure I'll be there again. So I give you full permission to wish harm upon my shins because sometimes that's just where we are. There have been multiple times in my life as a parent that I felt someone else was throwing their good in my face with ridiculously upbeat Facebook status updates about their cherub children or with their put together outfits or well-rested faces or what have you and I have wanted to kick them in the shins which isn't terribly adult or kind of me. But then I read things like this and just today, this, and slowly I've begun to learn that the happiness of others is not something I should be taking personally.
Seeing as past experiences tell me that I suffer from Bitchy Resting Face, I realize that this shift in my perspective may not be visible to the naked eye. And clearly you know I'm not going to be spouting nothing but sunshine and roses from here on out. That's not me. But because I do narrate this life honestly, I think it is honest to tell you that I've been working towards being good and being happy for a long time. Life these last few years has been a little bit intense and little bit hectic. And of course it has also been a little bit freaking awesome and a little bit full of joyful moments, but today, in the midst of a really long day near the end of a really long week, I was able to find myself laughing and smiling and not just feeling like I'm stuck in survival mode. Of course this is ironic because with a 4-yr-old, an almost-2-yr-old, and an almost-4-mo-old, I am very much in survival mode, but the good news is, I am starting to rediscover my sense of humor and my sense of self which is making the good shine through the crazy.
Again, this takes me back to the medal. I deserve the damn medal because in the midst of the chaos, I am taking time, insisting on time, for myself. It's coming in small increments and in small ways, but I am OK with that. The fact that I'm even doing it is what is so noteworthy because in this life of giving, giving, giving to my Littles and our life as a family, it is so easy to leave myself for last. But obviously if I give my entire self away, there will be nothing left for the rest of them, so my acts of self-care are caring for my brood, too.
And you know what? I think you deserve a damn medal, too. Yes, yes I do. Whether you're doing something extraordinary or a million bits of ordinary, you are also here which means you are part of me and for that I am grateful. Because without you I wouldn't have people to share the highs and lows and isn't that the point of this life anyway?
Now, a few points I need to add before I continue. Perhaps, if you are not feeling so good at the moment, you would like to kick me in the shins right now. I get that. I have been there. I am sure I'll be there again. So I give you full permission to wish harm upon my shins because sometimes that's just where we are. There have been multiple times in my life as a parent that I felt someone else was throwing their good in my face with ridiculously upbeat Facebook status updates about their cherub children or with their put together outfits or well-rested faces or what have you and I have wanted to kick them in the shins which isn't terribly adult or kind of me. But then I read things like this and just today, this, and slowly I've begun to learn that the happiness of others is not something I should be taking personally.
Seeing as past experiences tell me that I suffer from Bitchy Resting Face, I realize that this shift in my perspective may not be visible to the naked eye. And clearly you know I'm not going to be spouting nothing but sunshine and roses from here on out. That's not me. But because I do narrate this life honestly, I think it is honest to tell you that I've been working towards being good and being happy for a long time. Life these last few years has been a little bit intense and little bit hectic. And of course it has also been a little bit freaking awesome and a little bit full of joyful moments, but today, in the midst of a really long day near the end of a really long week, I was able to find myself laughing and smiling and not just feeling like I'm stuck in survival mode. Of course this is ironic because with a 4-yr-old, an almost-2-yr-old, and an almost-4-mo-old, I am very much in survival mode, but the good news is, I am starting to rediscover my sense of humor and my sense of self which is making the good shine through the crazy.
Again, this takes me back to the medal. I deserve the damn medal because in the midst of the chaos, I am taking time, insisting on time, for myself. It's coming in small increments and in small ways, but I am OK with that. The fact that I'm even doing it is what is so noteworthy because in this life of giving, giving, giving to my Littles and our life as a family, it is so easy to leave myself for last. But obviously if I give my entire self away, there will be nothing left for the rest of them, so my acts of self-care are caring for my brood, too.
And you know what? I think you deserve a damn medal, too. Yes, yes I do. Whether you're doing something extraordinary or a million bits of ordinary, you are also here which means you are part of me and for that I am grateful. Because without you I wouldn't have people to share the highs and lows and isn't that the point of this life anyway?
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Socktober
I happen to have a few favorites in this world, and SoulPancake is totally one of them. It started with the book version a few years back and now I have to say that the website is full of gems. Upworthy features a lot of their stuff and for good reason. The content is awesome. So it didn't surprise me when I saw a SoulPancake/Kid President video the other day that was fantastic:
The concept is called Socktober and it is both brilliant and kind. Instead of wasting all of our time on the Internet to crush the candy or follow people like Miley Cyrus on the Twitter (again, my old school phone keeps me from doing either), SP and KP would like to get 1 million folks to donate socks to the homeless in the month of October (hence Socktober).
I love when the Interwebs can be used for good. I've taken part in such small acts before and have been very honored to be part of a couple Love Flash Mobs over at Momastery. It is amazing what people can do when they get together with folks they have never and will never meet to help those both near and far.
Naturally, I wanted to get right on board with Socktober. But I didn't want it be just about me. I wanted my whole family involved. Ben and I believe in giving to various groups and people in as many ways as possible and clearly that is something we want to instill in our kids, too. So why not start young?
Today, while hanging out during the littlest Littles' naps, Harrison and I had the following conversation:
Me: Hey, buddy. Did you know that not everyone has socks?
HD: No, Mama. Everyone has socks.
Me: Noooo, there are some people who don't have enough or even any socks, especially in the winter. What would you say about getting some socks to donate to our local shelter?
HD: What's a shelter?
Me: A place where people can go to get help when they need it. And socks can be help. What if we got socks for someone your age to give?
HD: Who is 4 who doesn't have socks? What's his name? Can you tell me, Mama?
Well, I could not, but I was happy to know at that point that Harrison was very much willing and ready to be part of Socktober. When Baby Girl and Baby Boy got up, we headed to the store and SOCKS were the very first item on the agenda. On the way there, Harrison told me he wanted to hold my hand while we went to find the socks and that is exactly what we did. But we didn't want to do just one package. We wanted to get a package to represent each member of our own little family just in case there is a man or a woman or a child (age 4, 2, and 0-6 months) in Hastings who needs some extra warmth and comfort this fall and winter. Here's what we got:
This week we'll take our little bag over to CrossRoads; it's the local shelter here and it has been far too long since we've dropped anything off at their door. I am grateful that we are able to help in even this small way and happy to know that good can come from surfing the web. I hope that you can find a way to make an impact in your own community after reading this. Whether you choose to rock Socktober or something of your own creation, please remember that even the smallest gesture can make a world of difference to someone in need.
I love when the Interwebs can be used for good. I've taken part in such small acts before and have been very honored to be part of a couple Love Flash Mobs over at Momastery. It is amazing what people can do when they get together with folks they have never and will never meet to help those both near and far.
Naturally, I wanted to get right on board with Socktober. But I didn't want it be just about me. I wanted my whole family involved. Ben and I believe in giving to various groups and people in as many ways as possible and clearly that is something we want to instill in our kids, too. So why not start young?
Today, while hanging out during the littlest Littles' naps, Harrison and I had the following conversation:
Me: Hey, buddy. Did you know that not everyone has socks?
HD: No, Mama. Everyone has socks.
Me: Noooo, there are some people who don't have enough or even any socks, especially in the winter. What would you say about getting some socks to donate to our local shelter?
HD: What's a shelter?
Me: A place where people can go to get help when they need it. And socks can be help. What if we got socks for someone your age to give?
HD: Who is 4 who doesn't have socks? What's his name? Can you tell me, Mama?
Well, I could not, but I was happy to know at that point that Harrison was very much willing and ready to be part of Socktober. When Baby Girl and Baby Boy got up, we headed to the store and SOCKS were the very first item on the agenda. On the way there, Harrison told me he wanted to hold my hand while we went to find the socks and that is exactly what we did. But we didn't want to do just one package. We wanted to get a package to represent each member of our own little family just in case there is a man or a woman or a child (age 4, 2, and 0-6 months) in Hastings who needs some extra warmth and comfort this fall and winter. Here's what we got:
Friday, October 18, 2013
1, 2, 3, or 7 (it's all the same)
Let me begin by saying, we don't plan to have seven children. We are hoping to add one more to our brood and although Ben and I both have/had a grandparent with a twin, I don't think we're going to jump from three to seven when that time comes. Perhaps I should go knock on wood just to make sure, though, eh?
OK. Superstitions qualmed (which is not a verb, but that's just where I am today).
Let me continue by getting to my main point: lately it seems I hear variations of "I don't know how you do it" "I only have one; you have three!" and so on from my fellow mamas, but here's the thing - I don't know how I do it either. I never have. And that is pretty much what I tell anyone who tries to tell me that they shouldn't be stressed because they "only" have one child. Guess what, sweet mama friends? I was waaaay stressed out when I had one kid. And when I had two. And now that I have three, well, in some ways I am more stressed than ever, and in others, I am learning to let go.
Let me explain.
The big kids are off to Grandma and Grandpa's for a couple days since Harrison didn't have school today. I don't think they've been away since Lincoln was born and even before that, they maybe had one sleep-away visit during the summer, so this has been a long time comin' to say the least. They were both so excited when Grandma Deb got here yesterday morning that they put on their "pack packs" (RL's phrase) and let themselves out of the side door while Deb and I were chatting in the living room. When Grandma caught up with them (I was nursing the baby), Raegan told her, "Ready to go!" So go they did and I don't have the slightest doubt in my mind about whether or not they are having a good time. Just look at the pic my SIL posted on Facebook of the cousin fun from today. Clearly they're doing great!
Perhaps it goes without saying, but I was pretty excited myself. I mean, really?! 48ish whole hours to focus on just the baby?! WhooHoo! Here was my time to live it up and SLEEP. The timing turned out to be crucial, too, because Tuesday night I got about one whole hour of sleep the entire night (stupid sleep problems), and the only thing getting me through Wednesday was knowing I would be two kids short come Thursday and then I could take it "easy."
But remember what I've been saying all to my friends since Lincoln's arrival? I was stressed with two and I was stressed with one. Of course there are some things, many things!, easier about my day-to-day when the big kids are away, but the days are never completely and totally smooth. It really doesn't matter how many babes you have under your care (I will eat those words if I end up with seven, I know); if you are in charge of the life and well being and total survival of another human being, it is not going to be easy. It's just not. And sure enough, Lincoln, my totally-chill-roll-with-it-sweet-lovin' boy, reminded me of that yesterday and last night.
Perhaps it was too quiet in the house for him, or something, but the child did not want to nap. He fought me going down and once we finally got through that, he slept for a nanosecond and was ready to go again. So, no. No nap or "rest" time for this tired mama who was trying to recoup after Tuesday night's disaster. To be fair, my sleep has recovered quite a bit in the last few weeks, but it seems that every week and a half or so, I have a really crappy night, so I'm in this whole two steps forward/one step back in regards to my sleep (and mental function). And to be fair to LT, his day sleep is always a little erratic, so it wasn't terribly shocking that he didn't nap for very long, but I was holding out hope that he'd cut me some slack. However, if I've learned anything since becoming a parent, it's that babies do not come into this word understanding "slack."
After turning in early last night (under the covers by 9:02!), I thought, Yes! Baby is alseep; here we go! Since Lincoln usually goes from 9:30 to 5 or 6ish, I though I was going to get one heck of a long sleep. But I swear, when you have more than one kid, he (or she) can sense when you suddenly aren't so distracted by the others and that is often when they demand your attention. Like last night, when Lincoln decided to start fussing like crazy at 12:30. He never does that, so why last night?! And then, to add to the absurdity of it all, he put himself back down before I could even finish going to the bathroom and getting dressed to go get him to nurse. So I put myself back down and slept well until 5:45 which is apparently the time Harrison has imprinted on my brain as Wake Up time. I will say, though, that is much different to wake up on your own terms at 5:45 than it is to have a preschooler come barging into your bedroom. I was far less tired and was able to just be still in the dark quiet, although it probably helped to not have to hear the toddler screaming for Daddy from her crib, for once, too. And wouldn't you know it? We had to go wake Lincoln at 7 because, seriously, I was about to explode with milk. TMI, yes, but truth in the trenches of nursing, my friends. Truth.
So there you have it. I have no idea how I do it when I have three in the house. And I have no idea how I do it when I have just one, because IT is always different. Every kid. Every day. Everything and everyone is in constant motion and flux, so whether I'm faced with one, two, three, or (gulp) seven, all I can do is whatever works within that moment (because you darn well know it's going to be someone and something different the next).
OK. Superstitions qualmed (which is not a verb, but that's just where I am today).
Let me continue by getting to my main point: lately it seems I hear variations of "I don't know how you do it" "I only have one; you have three!" and so on from my fellow mamas, but here's the thing - I don't know how I do it either. I never have. And that is pretty much what I tell anyone who tries to tell me that they shouldn't be stressed because they "only" have one child. Guess what, sweet mama friends? I was waaaay stressed out when I had one kid. And when I had two. And now that I have three, well, in some ways I am more stressed than ever, and in others, I am learning to let go.
Let me explain.
The big kids are off to Grandma and Grandpa's for a couple days since Harrison didn't have school today. I don't think they've been away since Lincoln was born and even before that, they maybe had one sleep-away visit during the summer, so this has been a long time comin' to say the least. They were both so excited when Grandma Deb got here yesterday morning that they put on their "pack packs" (RL's phrase) and let themselves out of the side door while Deb and I were chatting in the living room. When Grandma caught up with them (I was nursing the baby), Raegan told her, "Ready to go!" So go they did and I don't have the slightest doubt in my mind about whether or not they are having a good time. Just look at the pic my SIL posted on Facebook of the cousin fun from today. Clearly they're doing great!
But remember what I've been saying all to my friends since Lincoln's arrival? I was stressed with two and I was stressed with one. Of course there are some things, many things!, easier about my day-to-day when the big kids are away, but the days are never completely and totally smooth. It really doesn't matter how many babes you have under your care (I will eat those words if I end up with seven, I know); if you are in charge of the life and well being and total survival of another human being, it is not going to be easy. It's just not. And sure enough, Lincoln, my totally-chill-roll-with-it-sweet-lovin' boy, reminded me of that yesterday and last night.
Perhaps it was too quiet in the house for him, or something, but the child did not want to nap. He fought me going down and once we finally got through that, he slept for a nanosecond and was ready to go again. So, no. No nap or "rest" time for this tired mama who was trying to recoup after Tuesday night's disaster. To be fair, my sleep has recovered quite a bit in the last few weeks, but it seems that every week and a half or so, I have a really crappy night, so I'm in this whole two steps forward/one step back in regards to my sleep (and mental function). And to be fair to LT, his day sleep is always a little erratic, so it wasn't terribly shocking that he didn't nap for very long, but I was holding out hope that he'd cut me some slack. However, if I've learned anything since becoming a parent, it's that babies do not come into this word understanding "slack."
After turning in early last night (under the covers by 9:02!), I thought, Yes! Baby is alseep; here we go! Since Lincoln usually goes from 9:30 to 5 or 6ish, I though I was going to get one heck of a long sleep. But I swear, when you have more than one kid, he (or she) can sense when you suddenly aren't so distracted by the others and that is often when they demand your attention. Like last night, when Lincoln decided to start fussing like crazy at 12:30. He never does that, so why last night?! And then, to add to the absurdity of it all, he put himself back down before I could even finish going to the bathroom and getting dressed to go get him to nurse. So I put myself back down and slept well until 5:45 which is apparently the time Harrison has imprinted on my brain as Wake Up time. I will say, though, that is much different to wake up on your own terms at 5:45 than it is to have a preschooler come barging into your bedroom. I was far less tired and was able to just be still in the dark quiet, although it probably helped to not have to hear the toddler screaming for Daddy from her crib, for once, too. And wouldn't you know it? We had to go wake Lincoln at 7 because, seriously, I was about to explode with milk. TMI, yes, but truth in the trenches of nursing, my friends. Truth.
So there you have it. I have no idea how I do it when I have three in the house. And I have no idea how I do it when I have just one, because IT is always different. Every kid. Every day. Everything and everyone is in constant motion and flux, so whether I'm faced with one, two, three, or (gulp) seven, all I can do is whatever works within that moment (because you darn well know it's going to be someone and something different the next).
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